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Gay Shifter RomanceDaddy Bear

Page 15

by Sy Walker


  “Scratches?” Aspen’s eyes opened wide. He stood so fast, De’s head spun. “We have to get you back to my camp. I have some medicine.” He motioned for her to give him her hand.

  “Honestly they’re just scratches,” she said, turning her arm to inspect one. It was a nasty claw mark with three red welts swelling on her skin.

  “Their talons secrete poison,” Aspen said, reaching down and scooping her easily into his arms. “Hold on tight. We have to hurry.”

  De gripped his massive shoulders, happy for the excuse to cradle her head against his pecs. It was quite comfortable.

  Aspen ran fast. Faster than a human should have, but now she understood he wasn’t human. He was a lion, too. What had he asked her? Was she a witch or a shifter? He must be the latter. It was lucky he couldn’t see her face in their position because she was sure she was bright red as she considered whether he took the term “animal in bed” to a whole new level.

  They slowed down minutes later, and she heard him unzip his tent. Then he laid her gently down on a thin mat that felt remarkably like a bed of soft feathers. The world spun around his face above her like he was the center of the universe. His forehead was creased in the center as he considered her arm. He looked so serious.

  “Hold still. This may be an odd sensation.”

  She heard some more zipping and fiddling then felt something cool on her arm. But the coolness slipped inside the wounds and turned to ice that sent shivers spraying up and down her body just below the skin. A sense of headiness clouded her mind like she’d just had a couple of martinis. She gasped a little as his fingers deftly worked on matching wounds on her stomach and side where the dress had been ripped.

  “I’m going to need to remove these clothes,” Aspen said, fingers splayed deliciously close to the side of her breast.

  She thought about protesting, but first of all, it was absolutely possible they’d scratched her elsewhere the way they were handling her, and secondly, if she was honest, she didn’t mind at all.

  She let him help her to a sitting position and held her arms up as he tugged the tiny dress up and off. She giggled a little as he laid her back on the ridiculously comfortable mat and began to check her body for more damage. She stared up at the sky through the top of the tent and was amazed at the hundreds of tiny pinpricks of light that lit the velvety black expanse. More stars than she’d ever seen in her life.

  She felt his hands tug at her boots, progressively harder until he accidentally dragged her down the mat a little bit.

  “Whoa there, big fella,” she said. “I don’t think they got beneath those anyhow.” She lifted one leg in the air and rested it on his shoulder, only then truly realizing that except for the boots they were both completely naked.

  “I don’t see any further damage,” Aspen said, somehow ignoring her leg bouncing against his back.

  “I think you should check more thoroughly,” De said softly. “You missed a couple of spots.”

  “Where?” he asked, like a challenge.

  De took hold of his hand and slid it up along her stomach while watching his eyes. Two stars from heaven. She steered him up and over her breast and left his hand there, cupping her in his warm grasp.

  “You might want to examine the other one, too,” she said, voice hoarse again. She hoped he’d get the message and explore between her legs as well, since she was already wet with anticipation.

  His tongue darted out to wet his lips as his thumb ran back and forth over her nipple. De closed her eyes and drew in a deep breath as she felt him shift his weight. She knew his body was just above hers because she felt the intense heat rolling off of his skin all along her own shivering body. Her knee was still hooked over his shoulder, and she was seriously glad she’d remained flexible through her first two years of college, thanks to yoga. And Patrick.

  She opened her eyes again and ran her fingers up through the tangles in his golden mane. It was incredibly thick and silky, and she hooked her hands in it so she could pull his face down toward hers.

  “You are under the influence of the medication,” he said instead of kissing her.

  “So?” she challenged.

  “So I should wait until you aren’t to make sure this is what you want.”

  “I know what I want, whether I’m drunk or not. And I want you.”

  “I suppose that’s only natural.” Aspen’s grin was infuriatingly self-indulgent as she pulled his mouth to hers.

  But oh it tasted good as she kissed him deeply, hungrily and he ran his hands along her body with more pressure and serious skill.

  His fingers teased at the wet spot between her thighs, and she moaned with desire. His mouth worked down her neck to her breasts where he sucked at her nipples, gripping them carefully between his teeth and tugging lightly, first one then the other as his long fingers finally slipped inside of her to explore.

  “Oh, Aspen,” she murmured, gripping his shoulders and throwing her head back.

  “You know,” Aspen said, running his thumb along her clit as he continued to explore inside of her. “Lions are very good with their tongues.”

  “Mmmm,” she managed in response.

  He took that as a challenge and slid down the mat, running his tongue past her navel and straight down between her legs, where he used it to flick her clitoris until her hips were arched in the air. Then he inserted it inside of her, moving in ways she’d never experienced until the stars above exploded in pops of light.

  Aspen kissed his way back up her body again until he was positioned over her. His lopsided grin told her he was unbearably proud of himself, but she didn’t care. He really was that good.

  She laughed as he placed her other knee over his opposite shoulder and walked over her with his hands until her knees were level with her own shoulders.

  “I’ll go slowly in case I’m too large for you,” he said, probing at her entrance, which was primed and ready for him.

  “You wish,” she said, matching his grin.

  He entered excruciatingly slowly, touching deeper and wider than she’d had before and sending electric thrills through her belly as he worked his way inside.

  She couldn’t stand it any more.

  “Fuck me,” she commanded. “Like an animal.”

  Aspen growled low in his chest and thrust himself inside of her, making more stars explode overhead and all around as he increased his rhythm and intensity to an animalistic setting.

  Each thrust filled her with sensations of pleasure beyond imagining, and she let wave after wave pulse over her body until she cried out, unable to hold back. Hearing her climax must have given him that final push because he too thrust hard one final time, holding his position and grimacing as he released inside of her. Then he collapsed to her side, spent.

  Both of them lay there in the tiny tent, panting and covered in sweat.

  “I think,” he said, pausing to catch a breath, “I did a pretty thorough job that time.”

  “Pretty thorough,” she echoed. “But you might have to check again in the morning. You know, in case another scratch pops up.”

  Chapter 4

  De woke to sunlight streaming in through the top of the tent. She blinked and rolled to her side where she spotted Aspen, already sitting, one knee pointed upward, another pair of worn boots and pants on. She frowned.

  “I’ve decided to accompany you to the Emerald City and the Resistance,” he announced, patting her leg.

  “How far is it?” she asked, sitting up and trying not to look like she was waiting for her head to stop spinning.

  “About three days walk unless we cut through the badlands. Then we can do it in a day.”

  De crawled forward on hands and knees and threw her arms around his neck, pressing her naked chest to his.

  “I don’t mind taking three days.”

  He grinned. “That’s three days walking. I suspect it could take a month with your appetite.”

  “Humph,” De pouted. “I didn’t he
ar you complaining last night.”

  Aspen pulled her into his lap and kissed her deeply, his hand running up and down her back.

  “I have no complaints, little witch. I felt your magic last night. You’ve put a spell on me, but I don’t think I mind.”

  De smiled.

  “But,” he said, setting her on the ground and turning to unzip the tent.

  “But?” she asked.

  “But we need to find the Resistance and get you there safely. The WWW is aware of you by now, thanks to your furry little friends. And she’s going to be after someone with your power.”

  “She doesn’t know if I have any power,” De laughed, following Aspen out of the tent to stretch.

  “She’ll want to know how you summoned and tamed me. I told you, she was unable to do it. She won’t understand it is because she is hideous and you’re beautiful.”

  “Image issues?” De asked, hugging herself now that they were out in the open. “What happened to my dress?”

  “It was destroyed.”

  “You got your pants back.”

  “I travel prepared.”

  De balked. “I can’t just walk around naked!”

  “I would enjoy it,” Aspen said, cupping her buttocks and pressing her close.

  De’s mouth dried up. She was not going to walk to some city butt naked.

  “You are adorable when you are frightened,” Aspen said. “Don’t worry. I have some extra clothes that should work. And extra boots if you would prefer something… flatter.”

  “You probably just want my boots for yourself,” De snapped. “For a chew toy or something.”

  “I am not a canine,” Aspen growled, eyes glowing.

  De backed up a little. “Clothes would be fine, thank you,” she said quickly.

  Aspen grabbed a leather pack and dug inside, finally tossing her something white.

  De caught it neatly and held up a man’s tunic, sleeveless and ragged at the bottom. It looked huge. But once it was on, she adjusted it so the big neck opening slid off one shoulder and then tied a piece of cord Aspen offered her around her waist like a belt. About an inch of thigh showed between the top of the boots and the bottom of the tunic, but that was actually better than the other dress, De decided.

  Plus, it smelled like Aspen – all musky and masculine.

  “Take this,” Aspen said, handing her a wicked-looking knife with a thick leather hilt. “You need a weapon so you can defend yourself. At least until I reach you.”

  De nodded and tucked it carefully into her belt.

  “Drink,” Aspen ordered, thrusting the same cup at her she’d drunk from the night before. “It will refill itself as you drink. It is a magic gift from a friend.”

  De followed instructions, wondering miserably exactly who this magic friend was, as he folded up everything, including the tent, and stuffed it all inside his satchel.

  She guessed that was magic, too. From the same friend, she supposed.

  “We should move,” Aspen said, sticking his nose up into the air like maybe he’d caught a whiff of something. Could cats do that, too?

  De set one hand on the hilt of her dagger and hurried along beside Aspen as he moved smoothly and quietly away from the path she’d so foolishly followed the day before.

  “I should have listened to you,” she said, slightly out of breath from trying to keep up with his ridiculously long legs and quick stride. “When you told me not to go that direction.”

  Aspen grunted, sniffing the air again before changing course slightly so that they moved across some fields with sad-looking crops of corn and wheat.

  “This place is depressing,” De muttered, noting an old barn in the distance, dilapidated and partially demolished with the roof caved in like something had hit it from above.

  “Tell me about it,” a man’s voice answered, familiar, but not deep enough to belong to Aspen.

  “Who said that?” De asked, hurrying to catch up to Aspen’s side again.

  She searched their surroundings, concentrating on the overgrown wheat billowing in rows. It could be a hiding place for flying monkeys or other horrible things.

  “I did,” the man said again, and Aspen’s hands closed on her shoulders so he could angle her toward the barn.

  All she saw was an old scarecrow stuck on a wooden post with half his stuffing hanging out.

  “Don’t tell me…” she said, narrowing her eyes at the scarecrow’s face.

  “No. Not the scarecrow, little witch,” Aspen breathed over her ear. “Look toward the building.”

  De’s gaze trailed along the overgrown grass and crops until she spotted something glinting in the sun. Cautiously, she moved toward it until she could make it out better.

  A metal man stood in the tall grass. He was a beautiful statue made of some kind of silvery substance. The likeness of the perfect man. Well, human man. Aspen was far more perfect as far as De was concerned.

  “He’s beautiful,” she said, relaxing a little.

  “Thank you,” the statue answered, its eyes swerving in its head toward her.

  De screamed and backed right into Aspen’s hard chest.

  “I didn’t mean to scare you,” the statue said. “It’s just that I rarely get to interact with anyone and well, there you were saying exactly what I was thinking about how depressing this place is.”

  De was speechless. Why would someone create a beautiful piece of art, bring it to life and then abandon it in a corn/wheat field no one used?

  “You look familiar to me,” she said, trying to see past the shiny metal surface.

  “Maybe we were meant to meet,” the statue said in a British accent.

  “Cheesy pickup line,” De said, “Fake British accent. What the hell, Patrick? Did you paint yourself silver and chase after me?”

  Aspen’s chest rumbled behind her, and she felt him tense.

  “I beg your pardon,” Patrick said. “My name is Brett, and I have not painted myself. I can’t even reach the frickin’ wind up on my back so I can move again. Fine joke on the part of the witch that did this to me, putting it out of reach.”

  De rubbed her temples and tried to work things out. It made no sense that Patrick would even be able to find her, let alone paint himself silver and pose outside a broken-down barn, waiting for her to show up with a half-man/half-lion.

  “You reminded me of a friend of mine, Brett. My apologies.”

  “No need to apologize to the metal man,” Aspen said. “But I do smell food in the barn behind him. I believe someone’s been stashing supplies. I will go check it out and get us something to eat.”

  “Should I come with you?” De asked, not wanting to separate from him.

  “No. Wait here. I don’t know whose house this is and where they are. Metal Man, you will watch out for anyone approaching and warn this witch. If you do so, I may see fit to wind you up on our way out.”

  “Yes, sir,” Brett said, following Aspen’s stealth-like movements with his eyes. “I’ll just wait here then,” he called after him. “So you’re a witch, huh?” he asked, switching to a much more pleasant tone.

  De grimaced. She didn’t want to perpetuate the lie, but she also didn’t want to admit anything to Brett, who she wasn’t sure if she should trust.

  “Not in the mood to talk? That’s a shame,” Brett continued with a sigh. “I sure could use the company. Honestly, I could use a lot more attention than just conversation, if you know what I mean.”

  “I’m sure I don’t,” De said, walking around to his backside to examine this so-called wind up mechanism. As expected, it was centered between his shoulder blades. What she hadn’t expected was the view of his tight metal ass.

  “Enjoying the view?” he asked.

  How did he know? “Deciding whether I should wind you up or not,” De answered, glancing toward the barn in the hopes that Aspen would be quick.

  “It would be a good idea. If someone does show up, I won’t be able to protect you without being ab
le to move.”

  “I don’t need you to. I can protect myself.” De stayed behind him because she didn’t feel like looking him in the face. Or worse, accidentally looking down when he might notice.

  “That’s right. You’re a witch. I forgot. A good witch, I assume?”

  “You hope,” De said, staring at the barn door and willing Aspen to come back out.

  “I know who’s been using the farm house,” Brett said. “Neither of you asked, so I thought I should volunteer the information.”

  “Who is it then?” De asked.

  “Wind me up and I’ll tell you,” he said.

  De was about to say the hell with it and follow Aspen into the barn when Brett hushed her.

  “Excu—” she started, but he shushed again.

  “I think I heard something,” he whispered. “Stay behind me. Stay quiet.”

  De ducked back behind him and knelt low in the grass, heart beating hard against her chest.

  “Well, if it isn’t the old Gnome,” Brett said loudly.

  “Well, if it isn’t the broken toy,” a gravelly voice answered.

  “Find any tender young flesh today?” Brett asked lightly.

  “Not today, but there are rumors of a newcomer. Wouldn’t know anything about that, would you?”

  Brett snorted. “Yeah, someone dropped randomly out of the sky while you were out.”

  Silence.

  De put a hand on the hilt of her dagger and peered around Brett’s knee. The Gnome was about four and half feet tall and bulky, covered in some sort of makeshift armor. His head was oversized with pointed ears and an enormous nose that twitched as it sniffed the air.

  “I smell something delicious,” he said finally.

  De ducked back behind Brett’s legs.

  “Why, thank you,” Brett said. “It’s a new cologne.”

  “Who are you hiding?” the Gnome asked, stepping close to Brett’s face.

  “How the hell would I hide someone when I can’t fucking move?” Brett asked, all polite pretense gone from his voice. “Now if I could move, I could defend someone from the likes of you, since I know how.”

 

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